Octavius

xxix

TW: recollection of sexual abuse.

FINLEY

        I had woken up about an hour ago, the pounding headache against my brain reminding me exactly what Darcy had always meant when he said 'Don't drink, kid' and I never knew I would be regretting the day I didn't listen to Darcy. Drinking was a meanie, it brought my wild side out, and retorted in an intense hangover the next morning.

        When I woke up, I knew exactly where I was, and who I came home with. Every intricate piece of memory from last night wove through my mind like a kaleidoscope: Octavius pulling from the stage, wrapping his suit jacket around me, a look of jealousy and concern on his face, before he took me home, but not before stopping by McDonald's.

Yep, I remembered the part where I started bawling like a baby when he told me the closest McDonald's was closed, and willingly drove about thirty minutes just so I could get my chicken nuggets.

Dig me a hole. Now. And make it deep.

I had pretty much begged him to have sex with me but he didn't. I would have felt it, at least though I did remember asking him to make me come, and he did exactly that. Not as a little girl. My cheeks flushed beet with embarrassment, cringing as my past words flashed through my mind.

And now I was currently hiding out in the comfort of his room, thick covers draped over my body, over my face as I peeked through the covers every few minutes, desperately thinking of a way to flee without running into him.

Maybe I can just jump outside the window.

Then I won't have to face him but life is too precious to be moping.

I'm strong. I can do this.. I can do this. Yes I can.

Yes I can—

"Finley?" Dark amber eyes peered at me from beneath those striking, long lashes that framed his eyes, and I found myself growing anxious over the fact that his eyelashes were prettier than mine. Focus.

        "Good morning," His husky, morning voice spoke in the hallway, a voice as warm as honey, luring me to comfort as I began to lower my barricades for him. My eyes unconsciously drifted to his dark curls pulled into a bun with a black hair-tie.

Sugars.

He had caught me just as I was about to make my escape. At least my merchandise is covered... by his shirt.

My dark eyes flew down to my fingernails, playing and chewing on my nails despite the fact that I knew it was indeed a bad habit. "H-hi," I whispered in a shaky voice, wanting nothing more to flee. No talking. I didn't want to talk again, and hear those shattering words of his. I didn't want to be near him.

        His jaw clenched painfully, dark eyes deepening with a certain emotion, and I held my breath. Waiting. Waiting for his words.

        I wanted the beautiful, unattainable man that had broken my heart multiple times, betrayed me, and I didn't just want him emotionally. I wanted him physically. I wanted him to view me as a woman.. not a little girl he couldn't care enough about to make her come. I wanted someone to view me as a woman.